


tumblr ficlets

by athletiger



Series: Tumblr ficlets [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A4 Spoilers, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-09-16 12:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16954410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/pseuds/athletiger
Summary: A copy pasta of the ficlets I have posted on tumblr, mostly Stony, some Stuckony and some others.





	1. At the Supermarket (Steve/Tony)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony went to the supermarket to get eggs, milk, and fruit. He got a hot blond instead.
> 
> Written for mcukinkbingo

“We need eggs, honeybutt. And milk.”

Tony could  _hear_  Rhodey roll his eyes at him, even though he couldn’t see him over the phone. “Go to the supermarket and get them, Tones,” Rhodey said indulgently.

Tony pouted, even though he knew Rhodey couldn’t see him. “But…”

Rhodey interrupted him before he could launch into an explanation about why it would not be a good idea to go to the store. “Tony. Put on your big boy pants and get the eggs and milk. I won’t be home until late tonight, and if you don’t get them now, we won’t have anything to eat for breakfast.”

“We could just eat out,” Tony said petulantly.

Rhodey scoffed, “You hate anyone else’s breakfast but mine and Jarvis’s. Go get them, Tony. And while you’re there, buy some fruit too.”

“Okay, dear, because you asked so nicely.”

There was a grin in his smile when Rhodey replied, “Love you too. I’ll see you tonight.”

“You’re paying me back for this!” Tony interjected. “Huh, he hung up on me. Rude.”

Okay. Milk, eggs, and fruit. That’s doable, right?

Wise last words.

Tony had a blue ball cap on his head and dark sunglasses over his face as he walked into the store, glancing around cautiously. Thankfully, everyone else seemed preoccupied, so no one paid attention to the new customer in the store. Tony looked down, grabbed a basket from the top and inadvertently looked up. There was a hot guy with blond hair and sharp blue eyes that was restocking the apples on the table in a beautiful pyramid.

He blinked. The guy’s arm flexed and rested around thick muscles as he grabbed the apple from the grocery box to the pyramid. And when he was done with that box, he bent over, pert ass sticking out in the air, as he placed the empty box at the bottom of the cart and lifted a new box onto the top tray, muscles straining out of the tight t-shirt Hot Blond wore as he did so.

“Move it, man. You’re blocking the entrance.”

Tony jerked out of his reverie when another guy pushed past him roughly, sending him stumbling a few steps forward. He shut his mouth–when had he opened them in the first place? He flipped the asshole the bird and turned back to the scene. Gesture forgotten already, Tony scrambled for his phone and took a picture of Hot Blond.

 _To Honeybuns: (image sent)_  
To Honeybuns: OMG he’s so HOT  
To Honeybuns: I wanna bang him

 _From Honeybuns: I sent you to go get groceries Tony_  
From Honeybuns: That being said, he IS pretty cute  
From Honeybuns: Don’t break him  
From Honeybuns: Ask him to show you where they put their condoms

If that wasn’t approval, Tony didn’t know what was. Tony smirked, putting his phone back into his pocket, and he sauntered up to Hot Blond, where he was placing the finishing touches of the pyramid.

“Hey,” Tony said huskily, leaning his hip against the display. He took off his sunglasses in one smooth movement.

Hot Blond turned to look at him, tilting his head slightly. He smiled charmingly and Tony swooned. “May I help you?”

For a moment, Tony forgot what he was going to say, distracted by the fact that he was even hotter up close. When Hot Blonde said, “sir?” Tony jolted.

“Yes, yea. You can, uh, help me that is,” Tony stuttered, blushing. He was regretting this. “Can you tell me where your condoms are?”

Hot Blond blushed, and pretty red that stained his face. Now he was speechless for a moment. “Uh, yea. Here, let me show you.”

He led Tony past several aisles until they turned left into the vitamins section. Hot Blond took six paces down and faced right.

“Is there any particular brand you prefer sir?”

Tony recovered enough from his original mishap to wink and give Hot Blond an award-winning smile. “Whichever ones you normally use.”

Apparently Hot Blond recovered enough too to answer back, “I find that the Stark condoms are the best.”

Tony’s grin widened. “And you’ve got one in flesh and blood.”

Hot Blond smiled back and grabbed his his hand, leading him to the back. He pushed past the flap doors of the supermarket warehouse, and Tony followed him as they moved towards the back corner of the warehouse.

They conveniently stored the beach towels where they hid, and Hot Blond grabbed one off the shelf and laid it on the floor. He pushed Tony onto it, unbuckling Tony’s belt as he did so. Tony shucked off his jeans, opening the pack of lubricant he took off the shelf. Tony rubbed the lube between his fingers to warm it up and watching Hot Blond unbuckle his own pants and free his cock from the confines of his jeans. Hot Blond paused his motions for a moment as he watched Tony reach behind himself and fingered his hole.

Hot Blond’s blue eyes were blown with lust, and Tony bet his own eyes were just as blown. “Come on, come on,” Tony urged, inserting a single finger into his hole.

“You’re even hotter than your pictures suggest,” Hot Blond said, ripping open a packet of condom and rolling it onto himself. He took the lube from where it laid beside Tony and placed a dollop onto his fingers.

“Yea?” Tony replied breathlessly. “You don’t look too bad yourself, cutie.”

Hot Blond laughed. He grabbed Tony’s wrist to take out his fingers, replacing them with his own. Tony gasped as the digits breached him, thrusting in and out smoothly. “Name’s Steve.”

Tony looked down at Steve, eyes at half-mast. “Well, Steve. Get your cock in me already.”

“You ready?” Steve looked concerned, although he did remove his fingers and line his cock against Tony’s hole.

Tony spread his legs even wider. “I was ready  _yesterday_ , cutiepie. Get your cock in me already.”

Tony groaned when Steve breached his hole. Steve lifted Tony’s legs up to his shoulders, providing easier access to his hole. Steve stilled when he bottomed out, his balls in between their bodies.

“You good?” Steve asked. It took Tony a beat, but he nodded.

“Ready when you are.”

Steve went fast and hard, and Tony enjoyed every second of it. They groaned and moaned as Steve fucked him. It felt  _good_. And when Steve finally hit his prostate, Tony’s moaned even louder.

“You…feel…so…good,” Steve said between every thrust. Tony nodded frantically, hand flying over his cock and jerking it up and down. Steve’s hips stuttered as he reached closer and closer to the edge.

It felt like almost no time at all before Tony tipped over the edge. His vision whited out as he came, come spurting over his stomach. His hole clenched down, and Steve hurtled over the edge immediately after Tony, his breath hitching as his hips stilled, balls deep in Tony.

Steve collapsed onto Tony’s chest, not caring that he was smearing come all over himself. Tony let him stay there for a while, but Steve was just as heavy as all his thick muscles suggested. Tony made a half-hearted attempt to shove Steve.

“Off,” Tony groaned. Steve groaned in response and slid over onto the floor next to him.

“Want to have dinner sometime?” Tony asked, five minutes later, coming down from his high.

Steve looked at him and smiled. “It’s a date.”

Tony forgot the eggs. And the milk. And the fruit.

But that’s okay. He’s got Steve’s number saved in his contacts.


	2. Cat Thief (Steve/Tony)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has a cat thief. Need he say more?
> 
> Written for mcukinkbingo

There’s an origami rose on the middle of his coffee table. Steve pauses when he sees the rose sitting there innocently as he walks through the door of his apartment. He automatically glances at the weak points of his apartment. The window is still shut from this morning, and the door doesn’t signify a break-in. Even the security hadn’t been disabled when Steve checks the security log. Nothing seems to be tampered with, yet when Steve glances over again, the flower is still there.

Steve cautiously approaches the living room, hyperaware of any potential surprises that may appear suddenly. Yet, there are no tripwires or flashbangs or whatnot. Steve gingerly picks up the rose between his thumb and forefinger, admiring the exquisite detail of the origami piece. The petals that make up the piece are red, white, and blue, interweaving together in a beautiful spiral. Steve plucks a petal from the rose and unfolds it.

H. Steve picks another petal. A~P~P~Y~B~I~R~T~H~D~A~Y~C~A~P~!

Steve smiles indulgently when he finally reaches the middle, and then he folds the petals back into its original shape. It’s a sweet new addition when places the rose in the secret compartment he has behind the Monet hanging over the fireplace, next to the red star-shaped rock and the other trinkets that had been left behind in his apartment.

He speed dials 1, and the phone dials precisely four times before the line clicks.

“Hey sweetcheeks, Happy Birthday,” the voice on the other end says huskily.

Steve grins, but he tamps it down because he would probably be able to hear the indulgence in his voice if he continues to grin like a sappy idiot. “I just bought the new security systems last week,” Steve says sternly.

The voice scoffs. “I created those systems, idiot. Of course I know how to disable it without it setting off the alarms.”

Steve rolls his eyes even though the other person can’t see it. “Why are you even in the business anyway? You’re in the top one percent; you don’t need the money.”

Down the other line, the voice laughs, and Steve’s heart bursts with love. “You don’t need the job either, cutiepie. I’ve seen your background: you’ve got loads from your pension.”

“I like my job,” Steve says defensively.

“And I like the adrenaline,” the voice replies lightly.

Steve can’t help but let the smile grace his face. “Well, when you get bored stealing stuff, there’s a job at SHIELD for you.”

The voice gasps dramatically. “And quit my side hobby as a cat thief? I think not, sweetpea. Besides, if I worked for SHIELD, I wouldn’t be able to admire your ass and grope it. Sexual harassment training and all that.”

“The way you look at me is already sexual harassment,” Steve grumbles.

“See what I mean? Imagine Fury ordering me to go to all those seminars.”

Steve shudders in sympathy. “Stop breaking into my apartment,” he says, although he doesn’t mean it. He likes having his own thief that gives him gifts.

And it seems the other person knows it too. “Whatever you say, sweetie. Happy Birthday, Cap!”

God, he is going to be the death of him.

* * *

 

Tiberius Stone is throwing a ball to show off his newest collection of artworks. Steve stares at the prized possession: the blue Hope Diamond necklace, safeguarded behind laser security.

Steve’s not confident enough that the laser security system will keep his grubby fingers out of the prized possession, but Stone has hired Steve and his team to make sure that the precious piece isn’t stolen.

“Widow, Falcon, guard the perimeter. Hawkeye, keep watch on the roof and make sure that everybody entering is on the guest list,” Steve commands over the comms.

His teams assents, and they obey his order. Steve keeps watch over the necklace, making sure that those who approaches it doesn’t try to make a break for it.

There is a woman who trips while she passes him, and Steve unthinkingly reaches out to steady her. She giggles, dimples dotting her cheeks, and she pats him on the chest.

“Oh dear!” she says breathily. “Thank you so much for the save! I’m not used to such high heels.”

Steve smiles back, taking a quick glance down her body before he looks back up at her. His breath is taken away. Her brown wavy locks flow down her face to her shoulders, curling at the base. She is dressed in a long flowing cocktail dress, the gold and red shimmering in the light, and it hugs her figure perfectly as if she was made for it. Her hands are covered in gloves, one glove dyed blood red and the other majestic gold. Her grin widens lavisciously as she catches him looking at her figure, and she sways her hips slightly, the red and gold cocktail dress moving back and forth with the motion.

“Like what you see?” she asks coyly, like she knows what he’s thinking.

It spills forth before Steve could think about it, “Of course, ma’am.”

She places her delicate hands over her mouth as she giggles. “You’re a cute one.” She winks.

Just as she finishes winking, the lights go out, and screams echo within the ballroom. Steve gets tasered behind the ear, and he goes down unceremoniously like a puppet cut from its wires. But before he could hit the ground, someone catches him.

“It’ll be okay, Cap,” Tony’s voice cut through the screams. Steve curses internally. No wonder why she looked familiar, from the way her hands patted him on the chest down to the her sashaying hips. He should have figured it out sooner because he’s wearing his signature red and gold, but he was distracted by the way the dress curves so tantalizingly around him.

“I do have to say though, Cap. You look especially dashing tonight. We should dance sometime like this,” Tony continues. Steve groans incoherently, and he feels Tony’s lips on his own slack ones.

“Thanks for the treat.”

When the lights turn back on again, Tony and his dress is gone. Steve grumbles under his breath as he sits up, but he still smiles fondly, not particularly torn about the fact that he failed his mission. The Hope Diamond necklace would be in better hands anyway.

He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Tony again. He’s going to tear apart that dress and take him apart piece by piece.


	3. Barnes and Rogers (pre-Steve/Bucky/Tony)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a dark and stormy night in Brooklyn when a sopping wet man (who looks like an angry wet kitten) walks into Barnes and Rogers.
> 
> Created for mcukinkbingo

It really is a dark and stormy night in Brooklyn, and Steve is there sitting behind counter. There is no one else in the Barnes and Rogers bookstore because no sane man would want to be out and about in this weather, so Steve contemplates closing the shop when the bells chime, announcing a new visitor in the building. Steve automatically looks up from his sketchbook and sees a man with his head down and carrying no umbrella, dripping water all over the floor.

“Welcome to Barnes and Rogers,” Steve says, a customary greeting to those who walk in through those doors. The man twitches in surprise, clearly not expecting to be welcomed, and he turns his head towards Steve. Once he does, however, Steve is taken aback by the beautiful brown eyes that is staring back at him, and the widened and innocent look on his face brings arise to something fiercely protective deep within himself.

Steve places his sketchbook on the counter and makes his way towards the man, who, at this point, looks more like a sopping wet kitten. Steve nearly chuckles aloud with the thought.

Something must have shown on his face because the man asks, “What’s so funny?” Now, he looks more like an angry, sopping wet kitten, and Steve works hard to stop himself from grinning.

“Nothing,” Steve replies, finally coming to a stop in front of the man. “Let’s get you warmed up and dried, and I’ll get you something to drink.”

“Coffee,” the man insists, but he follows Steve to the back of the bookstore. Steve fixes him a look.

“I don’t think you should have coffee right now, but I’ll get you some hot cocoa.”

The back of the bookstore has a small café, and Steve heats up some milk while the man sits on the couch in front of the roaring fireplace. Once the water is done, Steve pours the chocolate powder into the water and stirs it, adding a few marshmallows for good measure. He pours another cup of hot cocoa for himself and brings both out.

The man has made himself comfortable, with his feet propped up upon the table and a cigarette dangled between his index and middle finger. His eyes are at half-mast as he warms up in front of the fireplace. However, when Steve places the two cups next to his feet, the man perks up. He makes a grabbing motion towards the direction of the cups.

“Gimme,” the man demands, and Steve laughs, passing a cup to him. The man inhales deeply, closing his eyes and savoring the smell, and Steve is distracted for a moment when he takes a long draw of the drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down enticingly.

“This is good,” the man says, finally opening his eyes and looking at him. Steve blushes and looks away quickly.

“Do you want more marshmallows in your cup?” Steve inquires while he is still turned away, but he has to look back when he doesn’t hear a verbal answer. The man nods so vigorously that Steve fears that his head is about to fall off, and then the man passes his cup back to Steve.

“More marshmallows and more cocoa,” the man demands more than he requests.

“Bossy,” Steve notes, but he turns around all the same to comply to the order. When he comes back, he holds a book in his hand, and he plops himself down next to the man, passing the second cup of hot cocoa to him. He takes it and places it on the table this time, instead bringing the cigarette to his lips. Steve is entranced when the man inhales, holds the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds, and then blows it out in rings. The man catches him looking and winks.

Steve mouth dries.

“Shotgun?” the man asks, taking another long draw of his cigarette.

Steve smiles back. He doesn’t mean to say it, but it just slips out when he says, “Why not?”

Now, the man is more damp than sopping wet when he crawls over, latching his lips on top of Steve and pushing the smoke into his mouth. Steve groans long and loud, unconsciously placing his hands upon the man’s hips, and Steve inhales the smoke into his lungs. It leaves him euphoric, and he can’t help but chase after his lips when the man begins to pull away. The kiss is slow, gentle, and when they finally pull away, the man looks just as dazed as Steve feels.

“Wow,” the man whispers. Steve grins.

“Drink your cocoa.”

Steve is halfway through his book when the bookstore entrance bell chimes again, but the gait that walks through is familiar and comforting, so Steve does not bother to crane his neck to see the new intruder.

“Steve,” Bucky says as he finally makes his way to the back. Steve shushes him. Bucky continues in a whisper, “It’s past closing time. It’s past ten o’clock, and you should be in our bed now.”

“I’ve got a guest, and I couldn’t just turn him away,” Steve says back lowly. Beside him, the man is asleep, his head using Steve’s shoulder as a pillow, and Steve smiles gently down at the sleeping man. Bucky stares.

“Do you know who that is?” Bucky hisses, his eyes widening.

Steve shrugs the shoulder that is currently not incapacitated by the man. “He looked like a wet kitten,” Steve defends himself.

“He’s Tony Stark!”

When he looks down at him again, he finally realizes that, yes, the man that is currently sleeping on him, the man that he  _kissed_  not one hour ago, is indeed one billionaire Tony Stark. Steve stiffens in horror.

“Yes, I’m Tony Stark,” Tony mumbles, cracking one eye open to look at Bucky. “You’ve got a problem with that?”

Bucky shakes his head vigorously. “Nope, no problem at all.” Bucky’s voice was much higher-pitched than normal, and Steve feels the same.

“He’s cute,” Tony comments lazily, looking up at Steve. Tony finally sits up and gives a quick peck to Steve’s cheek. He stands up and winks at the both of them. “Thanks for your hospitality, but I should be getting back now; Pepper must be wondering where I am.”

Steve and Bucky stares with their jaws dropped as Tony walks back out into the cold and stormy night. “Till next time!” Tony calls back to them before the bells chime.

“That was Tony Stark,” Steve says in awe, turning back to face Bucky. Bucky looks back at him. He still hasn’t picked up his jaw that was hanging on the floor.

“Uh huh,” Bucky finally manages.

Steve couldn’t wait until Tony comes around again.


	4. Start of Something Beautiful (pre-SpiderHarley)

Peter sat on the porch of Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts ( _Mrs. Stark_ ’s, he corrected himself internally) house, watching blankly at the casket floating away.

He lost five years of his life while the world turned on without him. He felt adrift, uprooted, anxious of the future. Mr. Stark had a kid...and he’s gone.

He lost his second person he could call “dad,” and he only had two years and then some with him. His chest ached with pain - it wasn’t long enough.

He wished he had more time.

This forest was untouched by the warzone back at the compound, a massive contrast to the utter destruction there. It would be rebuilt with time, but it wouldn’t be the same anymore.

 _God_ , he wished he had more time.

The porch vibrated as someone walked on top of the wooden planks, shaking more and more strongly as the footsteps grew closer. Clothing rustled as someone shifted and sat beside him.

“Peter Parker,” he greeted. “Tony told me a lot about you.”

Peter looked over in surprise and he saw the young man looking out into the distance. “The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Heart of gold and strength of iron. Young, innocent, loyal.”

“And too damn young to die.” Finally the man turned to him. He had eyes that reminded Peter of an incoming storm, grey and blue and roiling. Brown curls sat atop his head, falling gently that framed his face beautifully. He stretched his legs out down the steps and propped his arms behind him. “You weren’t the only kid he influenced.”

“I considered him a dad too when my dad walked away from my family. Broke into my garage with a dead JARVIS in tow,” He chuckled softly. “I tried to fend him off with a potato gun.”

“He paid me back with a new workshop and a watch for my sister.”

“Morgan may be his biological child, but he considered us three as his children, and I’m the oldest one. Told me to take care of you if he didn’t come back and you did.” The young man straightened up, looked at him in the eyes. “He may be gone, but still he lives within us.”

He wrapped around Peter’s shoulder, pressed a kiss into his hair above his ear before he got up. He turned around. “If you need anything, call me.”

“I don’t even know your name,” Peter replied. The man smiled gently, placed his hands in his pockets, and tilted his head slightly.

“Name’s Harley Keener.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted on [tumblr](https://la-toratempesta.tumblr.com/post/184483535693/a4-spoilers-but-new-ficmore-the-actor-who)!


End file.
